Daily Lessons
by ellfie
Summary: Equalist!Korra AU. Collection of ficlets based around the theme of lessons Korra learns from Amon. Amorra, some more than others.
1. Chances

**A/N:**_I'm assuming I should explain myself first. This is a series of short fics set in an Alternate Universe where Korra is a non-bender and an equalist, apprenticed to Amon. More of her background in this universe will be revealed as this series goes on, but several will be explored in additional future fics that don't fall under this specific theme (Daily Lessons) and will therefore be published on their own. This can be viewed as Amorra, but with more emphasis on Amon and Korra's dynamics besides 'romance' or outright smut. It'll make sense if you just read it._

_Also keep in mind that this Korra is still 'connected' to the normal-world Korra in some way. It's hinted at here, and will be explored further in the future._

_I've posted these on my tumblr (cait-win), so if you see it floating around there, don't freak out. I'm both ellfie and cait-win._

_**theme:** Various lessons Korra learns from Amon.  
_

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**_One: _**_Chances_

A punch to the gut sent her sprawling backwards, the air forced out her lungs. Korra tried to rebound back to her feet, but the force of his attack proved too much and she rolled to the ground, huffing.

"That's not good enough, Korra," Amon said, shaking his head, and even making those annoying _tsk tsk_ sounds. She swore he did that just to piss her off, and so he was rewarded with a deep scowl as she pushed herself back to her feet. Her body ached from every jab, punch, and kick he had landed, and yet he seemed to be perfectly fine despite the fact she was _sure_ she had landed several blows of her own.

"I thought it was fine!" Korra bit back, rolling her shoulders and falling back into position; feet spread, body angled away, arms out with elbows bent. He heaved a sigh, a tad overdramatic and shook his head again.

"No, no, and no." Amon approached her while her frowned deepened and ears began burning at the criticism.

"_What!_" She shouted, falling out of her stance in frustration. All he seemed to do was tell her how she was doing everything wrong, how she was never good enough, how her jabs weren't precise enough and her kicks held far too much force and she let her emotions drive her - and it was beginning to get _really_ annoying. Amon gestured sharply to her torso and she could feel his glare even if she couldn't see it behind his mask. She had learned to interpret this motion as a sign to regain her fighting stance, which she did, but he only made that _tsk tsk_ sound again, standing less than an arms reach away now. Her scowl deepened.

"Your stance is strong, but too much so. Perhaps useful for earthbenders, but not for moving quickly." To demonstrate, a kick was suddenly sent towards her side and Korra struggled to leap away from it gracefully. While she avoided the brunt of the attack, his foot still caught her and she stumbled sideways, shouting and indignant _hey!_ But he simply motioned at her again to regain her stance. He moved in front of her once more, arms folded behind his back in his usual, easy confident poise. This time he fixed her feet, knocking her outside heel with his foot to move it inwards. She wobbled for a moment, but quickly fixed it, her face falling into a stern set of determination. Amon nodded approvingly, and she could help but feel a small burn of pride.

"The key to our style is quick, efficient movements. You have to be ready to move." Amon paused, then put his hands on both her arms and pushed them down, closer to her sides. "You're not a turtleduck, so don't act like one." Korra gave an indignant huff and opened her mouth to retort, but he was already fixing her elbows. His hands touching her bare skin, adjusting her like some overgrown doll or an artist picking at his work, forced her to focus her eyes ahead of her at the far off wall. They were in a training room, what could be considered his personal one, but it had enough space to move freely in without too much trouble.

This was a regular thing for them. Constant, daily, (sometimes several times a day) training sessions with Amon. And that was on top of the daily sessions with the rest of the equalists. But a while back, Amon had picked her out especially to further train. She had become his protege, in a sense, even though she still had no clue why. Though Korra could assume it was because she kicked everyone else's ass and had shown some form of potential for further, intensive, one-on-one training.

She wasn't going to argue. This was an honor. And even if she _did_ actually care about such things, it was still a chance to improve and vary her abilities, to further her reputation and rank. No one would bother her. No one would insult her or look down on her. She'd climb through the ranks through blood, sweat, and tears on her own terms, and finally - _finally_, someone had acknowledged her potential. Korra had looked up to Amon for his easy, unfailing confidence, level-headedness, charisma, and power. Who wouldn't look up to him? He knew what he was doing, how to do it, and how to convince others to do so as well. The control he had over people was amazing, enviable even. Korra didn't really desire to control people, but she could appreciate the ease in which he did it with. And she had never seen him extort it, either. His followers trusted him, loved him even. They were all a family, even going to the extent of calling one another brother and sister (though that always felt fairly forced to Korra). He had a hold over them, yes, but they knew it, and didn't mind it. So to be hand-picked and hand-trained by Amon was quite simply, a big deal.

And a big pain in the ass.

"Will you quit staring at me like some sculpture and get on with it already?" Korra growled, eyes flickering back to her teacher.

"Look at you, taking charge," Amon drawled in what would've sounded completely condescending to anyone else, but Korra recognized the edge of pride in his voice, as well as his attempts to further push her. He knew she had a fiery temper and couldn't stand for being talked down to, no matter her age, and he constantly used that against her. He had told her before that she needed to learn to not be so caught up in what people said to her, especially in a fight, and had made it clear he was going to use that tactic until she became immune to it. He sauntered away from her to take his own position a few strides in front of her.

"Shut your trap!" Korra snapped and ran at him. He was already impervious to her insults, only finding amusement in her hot-headed retorts, because he knew she respected him. And if it ever seemed like she didn't, punishment was imminent. Korra ran towards Amon, staying low and sending jabs at his torso and arms while he easily dodged and blocked and returned each hit blow for blow. After a series of unsuccessful strikes, she jumped back to regroup, but he was right on top of her. Amon remained close, forcing her to stay in close combat that was wearing her down. She tried to force him back, but he was too strong and then her blows began to hit only air. Every time she struck out, he ducked and evaded and then immediately moved back into her space. Close. Far too close. Korra tried backing up, but Amon suddenly switched to the offensive.

Amon rarely pulled his punches. His jabs went straight into her muscles, no doubt causing immediate bruising. While she managed to avoid all aimed at her neck - where she would be down and out in less than a second if he landed a blow - he cut into her form and opened her up. Giving a series of yelps, Korra stumbled backwards, and he kept coming. Completely vulnerable as she was, he attacked her with little remorse, as if to further prove the dangers of a faulty stance. Finally, he paused. Korra took a breath and tried to compose herself to fight back, but Amon was too quick for her.

"Agh!" The kick to her stomach was swift and powerful, and she was sent stumbling backwards once more, the wall catching her body. Korra clutched her stomach, her muscles aching to the point that they were getting hard to move down. She leaned heavily against the wall, heaving like a polar-bear dog.

"Better." Amon resumed his regular pose: upright, shoulders squared, arms folded behind his back. She looked up to reply, but then he shot towards her and didn't stop. A flooding, almost suffocating fear overcame Korra and she pressed her back into the wall like it would envelop her and save her from the sudden, inexplicable terror she felt for the man in front of her. He stopped inches away, two fingers poised at her forehead like the weapon they were, tips brushing against the skin at the top of her nose. Right between her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat and blood drained from her face. Had he followed through, she'd be dead.

Korra remained frozen, exhaustion and fear causing her limbs to shake. But he would never do that to her, would he? She was his star pupil, his protege. He'd invested too much into her. He would never want to _seriously_ hurt her... would he?

Some distant, almost separate part of her held on to the fear that yes, yes he would.

But then his hand moved to brush back the hair that had fallen into her face, completely casual. "You're getting ahead of yourself, as usual."

It was a statement that made something in her click, but to what, she wasn't sure. So Korra simply tried to save face and scowl at him, as if she hadn't just been terrified for her life. "Says the one getting in my space and backing me into a wall. You didn't even give me a chance!"

Amon's hands came down on either side of her head, resting against the wall. He leaned down to look her in the eye, far too close, and Korra hoped he didn't notice her burning ears. Her heart pounded almost painfully, the adrenaline rush from the fight and the fear still fresh, along with something else she couldn't pin point. Either way, she couldn't take it, but he positioned himself so he was all she could see. She could feel her breath bouncing off his mask; see his eyes burning into her. She was trapped. He had her full attention.

"You must get used to this, Korra. The world doesn't give chances."

When Amon finally moved away, Korra willed her legs to hold. But the day's training had been too much and she sunk to the ground, trying to catch her breath and rid herself of fear. He was kind enough to give her time to compose herself privately under the guise of checking over the training equipment. After a few minutes, Korra finally managed to push back to her feet, a grim look on her face, and she awaited Amon's next lesson, approaching him cautiously.

"I think that's enough for the day," He said, casting a side glance at her. She tried, and probably failed, to hide her relief. She could hide very little from Amon. Just as he preferred.

She took a breath. "You sure? I mean I need to make sure to fix my bad habits and all," Korra replied, her tone belaying an easy sense of bravado. She hated showing weakness in front of Amon, and was well aware how vulnerable she had just been and desperately wanted to fix it, despite her aching body. She even returned to her fighting stance, making sure her feet were far enough apart and her center low, but not too low. Amon gave a dry laugh and strode over to her, humoring her enough to circle her.

He returned to her front and shook his head, patting her cheek. "That's enough for today, my little turtleduck."

Korra's elbows snapped down into the correct position but her face was aflame. "I'm _not_ a turtleduck!"

**.x.**


	2. Respect

_**A/N:** Keep in mind Korra's a bit younger in this one._

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_**Two:** Respect  
_

Even in hindsight, Korra could never remember exactly what she said that had made Amon's body go as rigid as iron. Despite his mask, it was clear to everyone when Amon was displeased. But the way he had approached her that day, movements forcibly controlled, stiff even... Amon was far more than displeased.

It had been in her first month of training with him, after he had picked her out from all the other equalists to hand train her. She hadn't known what she was getting into at that time. Amon was tough, intense, and rarely settled. He wanted the best, and he would get it, one way or another. In the same way, he commanded respect. Amon never had to outright demand it either; it was in his demeanor. You wanted to respect this man almost as much as he desired to be respected. Korra hadn't thought much about it. Of course she respected him, she wouldn't be here if she hadn't. She'd probably still be out on the streets, at that. But things had become different once she began spending so much time with him. Amon was still her leader, but now she had his direct attention: expectations were high, and training intense.

So when she had been having an off day, her combat falling short and movements slow and sloppy (that had _nothing _to do with the party some of her siblings had thrown for someone's birthday the previous night, where she had challenged the Lieutenant to a drink-off), Amon was getting frustrated with her. When he had grounded her for the tenth time in a matter of five minutes, he'd had enough.

"You're sloppy," Amon scolded, his usually cool tone betraying a thicker annoyance. "I expect far better from you, and right now all you're showing me is that you are simple, Water Tribe scum."

On the ground, in pain from the day's lesson and fuse already shortened, Korra could only see red. She pushed herself off the ground and hurled an insult at him, something about him being a farm boy. She still didn't know what she said, which she realized days later was due to the fact Amon had only wanted her to remember _never_ to speak out to him in such a disrespectful manner and to remember the fear he had instilled in her for talking about things that she knew nothing about.

Korra jumped into a defensive stance as she watched his body tense, approaching her like a hungry wolfbat. "You will _not_ speak of things that don't concern you." Amon said lowly, tone far more frightening the an angry yell. He moved closer and Korra panicked, eyes wide, and struck at him. Her teacher deflected the blow like it was nothing, and in a flurry of movements she couldn't follow, her arms were jabbed into uselessness, followed by her sides, and finally the line of her back was assaulted. Jolts of pain shot up her spine and down her legs and she fell to the ground with a _thud_, Amon not bothering to ease her fall in any way. Korra breathed heavily, her heart pounding as she proved to be merely a useless heap of limbs lying on the floor like a carcass. She had never been struck down so easily, so quickly before, with no means to fight back.

Amon lowered himself down next to her, one knee braced against the ground. Her body strained to move away, but it was no good. Her muscles tingled painfully, as if the blood within them was filled with thousands of fiery needles. Suddenly, the reality of how dangerous this man truly was hit her. He grabbed the material of her shirt and yanked her up so she was face to face with him. As if reading her thoughts, he said, "You do not want to get on my bad side, little Korra. I'd advise you learn when to hold your tongue."

She couldn't feel her limbs and imagined the numbness was not just due to his chi blocking. Her breathing was shallow and she didn't know how to respond. 'Sorry' was not in her vocabulary, even while facing down her teacher. But her silence wasn't good enough for him and he grabbed her face with his other hand, fingers pressing into her dark cheeks. "Do you understand?"

Korra didn't have it in her to move her head either way. "Wh-what are you going to do?"

He chuckled shortly, but it lacked any humor. "Tell me, Korra. Do you know what happens to those who _do_ get on my bad side?"

Korra didn't even want to imagine it. If he could do all this with two fingers, render her useless and completely vulnerable - a doll at the hands of a master - what could he do with tools? She lowered her gaze.

"I see we have come to an understanding." He released her face but leaned closer, his mask brushing against her temple as he spoke lowly into her ear. "Do not make me repeat this lesson."

She shivered and managed a meek nod. At the time she didn't even care he had subdued her to meekness with mere imagination and a five second attack. Truly, Amon was a force to be reckoned with. Even through her fear, she would be lying if she said she did not respect him. It was impossible not to.

He set her back on the ground, not ungently, and rose to his feet. Amon stared down at her, all poise and confidence and expectations. Her blue eyes shifted to watch him, unable to do otherwise. "When you can move again, we will resume."

**.x.**


	3. Temptation

**A/N:** _Shh just enjoy it. You know you want to._

_Also keep in mind I will_ not _write outright smut. Probably one of the few in this ship who won't ^^;;_

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_**Three**: Temptation_

Korra didn't know when she started becoming curious. When her teacher had turned into something more complex. Amon didn't seem to change; he was one of those men who seemed frozen in time, even while furthering a complicated cause. She had already seen what was behind his mask; she had already been working on separating the man from the idea. But something had changed and suddenly she was faced with an insatiable curiosity.

When it got to the point that even in the middle of the night the comfort of darkness was not enough to cease her swirling thoughts, Korra finally decided to do something about it.

The next morning the Water Tribe girl met her teacher in the training room, as they'd done countless times before. His arms were crossed as he turned to face her, his mask seeming to wear a deeper frown than usual. "You're late." He said flatly, watching as she crossed the room with strong, determined steps. He hated tardiness, Korra knew, but that didn't stop her. She walked straight up to him, halting only when she was a hair's breadth away, her face carefully composed into her own mask, breath held and shoulders back. He didn't move away, not even a lean backwards, but simply angled his head down to watch her.

"Take off your mask," Korra demanded, mouth set in a firm line.

His response was delayed, and Korra liked to think she had caught him off guard, but his tone was the same as ever. "No."

Korra frowned, expecting such, but her ears began burning in embarrassment regardless. "Take off your_ mask_." She repeated firmly, as stubborn as an earthbender (as Lieutenant liked to remind her sourly).

He leaned forward slightly, arms still crossed, and somehow that small movement made him all the more intimidating. "_No._"

Her muscles tensed and screamed at her to move away, but she refused. She had enough courage to face down a half a dozen benders on her own; she jumped into battles with hardly a second thought. And yet she had to muster up everything she had to just lean forwards.

"_Fine._" Korra pressed her lips against his mask, cold and rigid, lingering in a moment of provocation. She could feel his sudden intake of breath, a small crack in his stoic armor, but he remained rigid. Only two seconds, if that, passed before she pulled back, spun around, and stormed for the door, unable to contain her embarrassment anymore. Her dark cheeks burned but she ignored the flame and focused on getting to the hallway, where she would probably stalk further down, find Lieu, and start yelling at him for no reason he would understand.

Her plan was dashed when a hand grasped her arm and her back slammed into the wall with a _thud._ Breath escaped her lips from the sudden movement, but her _oomph_ was swallowed by a rough mouth. A hand pressed along her jaw kept her head in place, though the action was moot, Korra simply turning into the unexpected kiss. His mask had been discarded somewhere on the training room floor, and she could feel the heat of his skin, radically different from the chill of his mask. His lips worked her mouth open, hand moving from her arm to her hip. With her eyes shut, his scars were hidden from view but she could still feel the jagged skin from the slice through his lips, and she paid careful attention to it with her own.

His hand moved down, fingers pressing teasing circles into her thigh and trailing down her hip bone while he explored her mouth, sending shivers down her spine. The kiss was hot, open, and devouring. He gave her no leeway even as she tried to keep up, gripping the front of his coat as she tried to figure out what to do with these new, burning sensations. He pulled back just enough to divert his attack to her neck, massaging and sucking and biting until her breaths came in groans. His lips worked to her throat, forcing her chin up and head back, seemingly ever intent on keeping her submissive in some manner; ever at his mercy.

Just as quickly as he came, he stopped. Somehow, he hardly appeared out of breath despite the fact Korra was desperately trying to remember how her own lungs worked. She paused long enough to regard him in confusion, before tugging at his collar and leaning forwards to continue when he seized her chin. His fingers dug into her skin, cool against her flushed face, and kept her from coming closer, diverting her attention from his lips to his eyes. They were dark and blazing, but with what exactly, she wasn't sure. He still leaned over her, forcing her gaze up. He caught her eyes as easily as he had captured her lips, and his tone was heavy, husky, even intimate. And yet he still sounded like a leader speaking to a subordinate.

His face remained stoic, though words were sharp. "Do _not_ tempt me."

Lingering only long enough to see the understanding register on her face, Amon released her jaw and moved away, a rush of cold replacing the previous heat of his body. Korra stared, unable to compose herself and react quick enough. He picked up his mask and replaced it in a deft movement before striding out of the room.

Korra slumped against the wall, staring after him, trying to wrap her head around what just happened and to quell the dissatisfaction tightening her core. "I guess training's dismissed for the day," she said to herself to fill the silence, half expecting him to come back and drill her mercilessly (which she would find out the following day was a correct expectation) but figured his departing statement was what he wanted her to focus on the rest of the day. Her tingling lips rose into a smirk.

After _that_ display, she couldn't help but think this was one lesson worth ignoring.

**.x.**


End file.
